Milo, our Burman cat, has been with my wife and me since we moved to Gainesville, FL after our first year of marriage. He travelled with us to Atlanta, GA (where I began my theology studies) and then to Annandale (when we returned to the DC area) and eventually to Sterling VA. He's been with us a long time, but sadly, because of that long time, he is beginning to wind down.A few months ago we moved from Sterling Park to Countryside. Milo had been limping a little during the move. But it has really been in the last month that he started dropping a lot of weight, stopped grooming himself, and started to become more and more immobile.

Last week, we visited the Vet and received some meds to help ease his joints. But he became even more immobile and helpless. Today, we took him for a follow up visit. The veterinarian, concerned with his turn for the worse, ran new x-rays to compare to his last ones from March. Back in March we discovered a growth on his lungs that was too close to his heart to operate. But it did not raise any concerns at this time. Today, a new growth was discovered either on his kidney or his intestines. It may be pushing up against his spine causing his loss of balance and mobility.

We were given a new medication that might make him feel more comfortable, but the meds do not address the growth directly. He was given about 6 months at most to live out in more or less the same condition he is now. And we were told, should he appear to be in more pain, we could certainly pursue measures to have him euthanized.

I know pets aren't people and I am sure that many catholics and other people of faith have euthanized their pets. Although I am not certain, I know that because there is a distinction between pets and people the prohibitions against euthanizing a person do not hold the same moral weight for a pet. Nevertheless, I wonder how one goes about deciding and making peace with this event?

For us catholics we often pray for the protection of innocent life from the moment of conception to natural death. So generally speaking, we must hold in high esteem the idea of living our lives to the fullest and facing our natural death in as natural a way as possible. Is it also natural for domesticated animals to meet their deaths at our hands and time of choosing?

Regardless of how you might feel about this and whether or not you yourself have gone through this experience, I think what holds true is that in this particular instance (that of euthanizing a pet), we are given the occassion and the means to bring to an end (whether it is morally questionable or not) a relationship that spans over time. In my case, my cat has been with us almost as long as I've been married to my wife. And while he certainly does not have the same level of claim of being in communion with me and my wife, he certainly has a depth of meaning and value.

In pastoral terms--and I may be stretching the analogy a bit--euthanizing a pet feels a bit like growing away from the church and becoming a lapsed catholic. The puppy-dog days of walking down the aisle for First Communion or having a picture with the Bishop at Confirmation, or remembering fondly how one entered the church either as an infant or through the catechumenate, counts for very little besides nostalgia and memory when the relationship is brought to an end: "I no longer go to church", "I no longer believe in God", "I don't really understand the sacraments" or, as is common, "I've stopped receiving communion since my divorce."

Only I think in this case, what is being euthanized (i.e. what is dying) is the person attempting to remove God from his or her life and God's relationship to us through sacraments. Sometimes too, it is the own mismatch between church "policy" and real world practice that creates the estrangement of a communicant from a faith community.

In a few days, weeks, or months, I may be asked to ease the pain of Milo and bid him to depart. And we will find skillful, humane, professional means to do this.

I just pray that we do not get too skillful at separating ourselves from what holds true meaning and value. What is after all a gift of life and sacred and holy. For however it matters to my cat, how much more for ourselves?

As a hospice nurse in a Catholic hospital, I have plenty to say if you want to discuss. As someone who has shared in trials and tribulations throughout the time period of Milo's life, often cuddling him while I did so, I also have plenty to say if you want to discuss. I'm also here to be supportive and say nothing if that's what you choose. I'm here, is the point. As always. Love you all.

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Jay

8/20/2012 10:18:08 pm

My thoughts to you last night were simply, "I want to have the discussion with my cat", which I did. Everything else today will be talk about him. As good as memories can be.
RIP.

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Leonard

8/20/2012 02:37:14 pm

Milo, your "cat" is not just a cat but family, a part of your family that is the embodiment of unconditional love. If we could only be as honorable constant reflections of this same.
"Sheba" went home to God about 2 years ago. We had rescued her and she was a part of our family since my wife and I were married...and smelled the blankets and hats of our 1st daughter when she came home from the NICU (born 7 weeks early).
We were blessed to have Sheba with us for 6 years...her life was full of Catholic pet blessings and she lay at my wife's feet as we endured 4 miscarriages - and eventually saw the births of daughters #2, #3. Somehow Sheba knew what my wife felt in loss and in life.
Sheba had a cancerous growth that eventually prevented her from eating her dog food. When we decided to take her to the vet that she should go to heaven, I felt it was time. At every point however since then when I think of her there is sadness and my first real loss of a beloved family member.
As I held her on her dog bed when I knew she was gone, I felt a connection to all the dogs that had gone before her--part of her ancient breed, Shiba Inu. Deep, stoic, grounded, and full of love that was the embodiment of life giving unconditonal love.

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Jay

8/20/2012 10:16:07 pm

I know of what you speak. He was there through all our pregnancies. He shared the hurt and surprise when I came home by myself for a few moments after we had lost our firstborn son.
And he shared with us, without lack of surprise or the need to adjust to the newcomer to our home when our daughter arrived. He understood that this was what we had been waiting for all the this time.
And finally, I think (at least for us), it came down to something as simple as "whatever you did for the least of these, you did for me."

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Jay

8/20/2012 10:12:27 pm

Thanks for your kind thoughts and comments. I put a blanket on Mr. Boo last night. He was still warm when I came down this morning. HIs eyes were open and he had found his way to his last breath and destination.
He was able to take care of himself at the last. And we all have God to take care of the details.

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Jennie

8/21/2012 11:57:01 pm

So sorry for the loss of your dear pet. I still tear up at the thought of my dogs that died many, many years ago. Personally, I believe that St. Francis is looking out for all of them!

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Author

Jay Cuasay is the Director of Faith Formation at Christ the Redeemer Catholic Church in Sterling, VA.